Ironic

love yourself

"Why won't you tell me his name?" Summer asked. It was the first time she had asked this question.

I knew she wondered about it. I could see it in her face everytime I avoided saying Jonah's name, but she had never said anything about it until now.

"It's complicated," I told her, but I knew it wasn't enough to satisfy her. She was going to want more of an answer than that.

She scoffed. "Yeah, right, 'complicated,'" she said.

"It is," I insisted.

"Explain."

But I was scared. I knew she got it. I knew she understood. "It just feels less real when I don't use his name," I told her. "Using his name makes it official, and I don't want that."

"Maybe making it official is what you need," she stated and I was so in awe at both her intelligence and advice that I was just silent for a few moments. "You can tell me his name."

I couldn't. Really. But it hurt so much to keep it inside, I let it out. And I let part of my pain go as well.